Griff writes:

Last Friday, April 10th, I celebrated a birthday on the balcony of the Elite. Later, upon perusing my loot from that boozy evening, I was horrified to discovery a bag containing the presents belonging to another individual, named "Josh," who as fate would have it was celebrated his birthday on that very balcony, on that very same evening. Inquiry to the Elite staff only yielded the information that yes, he had asked about his wayward loot, but sadly did not leave any contact information.

Here is where the trail grows cold. Perhaps a slogger out there knows this Josh? From the contents, I can tell he's a drinker, dog owner, and possibly into pictures of women's buttholes. I'd hate to think that someone would survive the trials and tribulations of this past year and come out the other side with no shwag to show for it. If someone can describe the bag or its contents, I'll happily return it.

Josh, are you out there?

And re: the Elite, Stranger reader-reviewer dc.al.coda declares:

In a city with no "can't-miss" bars, this is arguably the best gay bar of the moment in Seattle. In their old location (N end of Broadway), they appeared to cater to 50something alcoholics and the parolees who love them. In their new location (Olive & Summit, near the also newly-relocated and also mixed and also fun Bus Stop), the trainwrecks are vastly outnumbered by cute, happy, 20- to 40-somethings, male and female, gay and hipster and gayhipster (gaypster?).

The last time I was at the Elite, it was full of hale, handsome soccer players who'd just come from a game in which one team played topless, the other bottomless(-ish). Everyone was having a great time.

UPDATE! Josh has been found!

ZOMG, that's my bday booty that I've been sadly missing. And to clarify, I don't like women's buttholes.

And now man and birthday bag will be reunited. Slog is, truly, a beautiful thing.